as surrounded that day.
”What does it look like? ”
”Is someth- ”
”Fuck off. ”
”Are you s-sure? ”
”Just… go. ”
And another wave of shame washed down my system merely a slow minute after.
Why had I pushed away my only source of light? My only friend? I had so many chances. So many failures. And I think that is why.
I wanted and still want to live differently.
It was then I noticed.
A shaking lorry skidding down the road.
Quite fast, definitely over a speed limit or two.
It was then I saw a blank face washed with red.
And then I saw a wheelchair ahead of me. Slowly wheeling down the road. Right in time for a straight collision.
I stood there.
My eyes looked mundanely.
Everything in life needs a push. Even to work up I enjoyed slowly lifting a finger before another. Fingers formed hands and hands connected wrists. And then this strenuous cycle continued before my legs found themselves on a hard wooden floor.
I stood there.
An act of god, a force of the unknown. I am unbeknownst of what.
All I know is that I was suddenly charging down the road. My form was awful and my hands moved out of sync. I already felt a stitch emerging right away.
I had a chance.
A chance to stop.
On the 3rd or so step, the unknown momentum died down.
I could keep going, or stand there.
I lived differently.
I wanted to call out but all that I could produce was a painful gasp as my burning throat started pulsing immensely. Too much force had clearly been used.
But that didn matter. I didn care.
How could I say that I wanted to live differently?
And do the exact same thing that Ive done since the age of 2?
I won pull myself back anymore.
Thats what I thought to myself.
I didn want to see wheelchair remains covered in mush in a flashy finish.
I wanted to live differently.
I attempted to pull the wheelchair back from a safe distance but felt my hands swipe air.
I gritted my teeth.
I dashed forward, muscles in my legs strained hard and pushed the wheelchair as hard as I could.
Like moving a braked bike it was tough and I felt the uncomfortable feeling of rubber creating friction against concrete.
I pushed. Keep pushing. And pushed. My elbows creaked and ached yet I pushed. I pushed until I felt the wheelchair rise over the platform and reach the other side.
I looked down not in contentment or relaxation but in tiredness. I was panting heavily and grasping my ribs.
The Boy inside the chair was fine.
We were out of the firing zone.
I had lived differently.
I took a closer look at the boy,
Long hair covered his face. A smile was plastered onto his face.
He was happy.
I was still bending. My hands were on my knees. I looked to the left.
An impending fist from below hit me back. I felt my feet tip over the pavement curb.
I stumbled, but managed to not fall over.
The aches and pants still filled my body.
I looked right.
All I could see was 2 white crosses and a mechanical outline.
Was this the light you see at the end of your life?
Isn it arriving a bit fast?
I couldn even move due to my position.
My slightly hunched posture formed a sorry sight for watchers.
I could only see the wheelchair boys eyes as I felt the sound of metal scraping the flow grow louder, so loud that I could not even describe it for my ears had already gone past their limit.
Revealing a golden tooth.
The truck soon crashed forward.
A bloody red soon covered its front and many pink structures began sliding down its cold metal edges.
The fierce wind from the truck lifted the wheelchair boys hair, revealing a psychotic face smiling madly. His golden tooth being fiddled by his crazy tongue. His golden tooth rocked forwards and backwards as he looked at the organs on the ground in delight.
I saw the gold.
I saw the smile.
So this was revenge huh?
I never saw what happened after in the corner of my eye, a red outline appeared.
All I felt was my body being swiftly thrown into water.
Deep, dark lukewarm water.
And I stayed there.
Waiting for someone to pull me out.
Anyone to pull me out.
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